Germanicus

28

I hate these formal parties. The booze is always slow and second rate, you never know what to do with your plate and the guy you end up talking to (it's always a guy, or a fifty-plus harpy with a face like a camel's worst angle) is either a total bore or he thinks you are. He's usually right, too: I'm never at my snappy conversational best when I have to talk vertical. And when I'd been through the problems of travelling out of season and the beauties of Antioch for the tenth time in a row with the tenth political smoothie I was ready to jack it in in favour of solitaire draughts.

Which was when I felt a hand smack me between the shoulder blades so hard I almost spilled my wine. I turned, and recognised Statilius Taurus.

'Hey, Corvinus!' he was grinning like a drain. 'What the hell are you doing here?'

I could've asked him the same question. The last time I'd seen Taurus was in Rome two years back, when he'd been packed and ready to go to Crete as junior finance officer. Now here he was in Antioch, and in a tribune's uniform instead of an administrator's mantle.

'Taurus!' I grinned back. 'What happened to Crete? They kick you out of the diplomatic?'

'I was never in, Marcus boy. I did a swap with a friend who was chasing the collector's daughter. Anyway, it was a fair deal. He juggled accounts ten times better than I could.'

Yeah, that made sense: Taurus never did have a head for statistics, barring vital ones, but he was a born soldier. I doubted if the friend had needed to twist his arm much. And I was glad to see a familiar face.

'You with the Third?' I asked.

'The Tenth. Over at Cyrrhus. I'm delivering a report for the boss.' He emptied his wine cup and held it out to a passing waiter. 'You?'

'Call it a holiday,' I said.

'Hey, that's right! Someone mentioned a narrow-striper from Rome. That you?'

'Must be.'

'A honeymoon, then. I heard you'd married that Perilla girl. Congratulations.' He hesitated. 'You know Rufus is here?'

'We've met.'

'No kidding.' I could see he wanted to ask what'd happened but he was too polite. 'So where's the lady?'

I looked around. Perilla was deep in conversation with Marsus, and I didn't want to risk another brush with that guy. 'Over there. I'll introduce you later.' I paused. 'Hey, Taurus. How long've you been here, exactly?'

'In Syria? Well over a year now. I came out two Novembers ago.'

'Is that right?' So he'd overlapped pretty considerably with Germanicus. Maybe I'd struck lucky and the draughts could wait after all. 'Did..?'

I never finished the question. A movement at the edge of the room caught my eye. The governor was on his way over, with a thin faced military man in tow. Obviously this wasn't the time or the place to go into things. Not if I wanted answers.

'Look, Taurus,' I said quickly. 'You in Antioch for long?'

'Two or three days.'

'Okay. So let's split a jug. Tomorrow?'

'Make it the day after.' His left eyelid drooped. 'Tomorrow night I'm busy. Or I hope to be.'

'Fair enough. You know Athenodorus's house? In Epiphania?'

'I can find it.' Lamia was almost up to us by now. 'Marcus, you okay? What the hell's going on?'

'Later, pal.' I turned to face Lamia.

'Ah, Corvinus!' The governor was smiling. 'I'm sorry to interrupt. Can I introduce Domitius Celer, the Third's commander of cavalry?' Hey! Great! 'I think your wives met earlier today.'

'That's right.' I shook Celer's hand. 'Pleased to meet you, sir.'

'Fine.' Lamia smiled again. 'Now if you'll excuse me I think my wife is trying to attract my attention. Some domestic crisis, no doubt. Lovely present, by the way, Corvinus. Thank you.'

He left, and I turned my attention to Celer.

'Rufus sends his regards,' he said.

As the Third's Commander of Cavalry, Celer would be Rufus's second. I stiffened. 'Yeah?’ I said ‘That was nice of him.'

Taurus was looking between us. Celer hadn't so much as acknowledged his presence, but he did it now. Turning to him, he said: 'Don't let us keep you, Tribune.'

Taurus blinked and reddened. I got ready to grab his arm in case, governor's party or not, he decided what the hell and punched the bastard out. He didn't, although it was a close-run thing. Instead he gave him a long careful stare, nodded, and with a 'See you later, Marcus' walked off to join another group.

Celer watched him go, then turned back to me.

'You're enjoying Antioch?' he said.

'It's okay.' I found that my own right hand had made a fist, and I had to will myself to relax: I hadn't liked the crack about Rufus, I hadn't liked the way he'd dismissed Taurus, and I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that I could live without Celer full stop. 'You want the travelogue, pal?'

'No. I know how you've been spending your time. In fact that's why I thought a little talk with you was in order.'

'Is that so, now?'

'That's so.' He moved closer in, and I caught the smell of metal polish and beeswax from his armour. 'A friendly warning. Leave it alone. Carry on and you'll only get hurt.'

He'd dropped his voice almost to a whisper. I stepped back and spoke normally. 'Uh-huh. And does Lamia know about this "friendly warning" of yours?'

Several heads turned; Celer's eyelids flickered, but he didn't move, and this time he made no effort not to be overheard. 'Oh, the governor agrees with me,' he said calmly. 'In fact I'm afraid you're in a minority of one here. Not a very popular minority, either.'

'I can take that.' I held out my empty cup to a hovering wine slave. I'd misjudged Lamia: the wine wasn't bad although a bit sweet for my taste. Probably local, because I couldn't place it at all, but good local. 'Hey, talking about sightseeing as we weren't, pal, I hear you know a nice spot in the hills on the road to Beroea. Good place for a picnic, you think?'

I'd rocked him; I could see that. His face shut. 'You be careful, Corvinus,' he said slowly. 'You be very careful. As I said, you could get hurt. And Antioch isn't your city.'

'So I've been told.'

'Remember it, then.' He turned his back without another word and walked off to join two other officers by the ornamental pool.

I was so angry I was shaking, but short of going after the guy and holding his head under the water until his toes turned blue there wasn't a lot I could do. At least we knew where we stood, and the fact he'd been so blatant showed he'd probably told me the truth; that most of the people who mattered would back him, including the governor. Like he'd said, I was on my own. I looked over to where Taurus was chatting to a little honey in red silk, but I decided not to join them; we'd made our appointment and the less I saw of Taurus before then the safer it'd be. Maybe he thought the same, because although I was sure he'd seen Celer go he was ignoring me. Besides, I'd be cramping his style. I went off to look for Perilla instead.

She'd moved on from Marsus and was talking to a pale plump woman in a subfusc mantle and a big guy with baggy jowls like a pig's cheeks.

'Oh, Marcus, there you are,' she said. 'Come and meet Acutia and her husband Publius Vitellius.'

We nodded at each other. Vitellius gave me the look I was beginning to recognise: a sharp, summing glance that was just on the polite side of unfriendly.

'Your wife's just been telling us about her stepfather.' Acutia may've looked like a pigeon but her voice and manner were pure mouse. I had to bend close to hear all the words. 'So fascinating, to have a famous poet for a relative. And how rewarding it must have been artistically.'

'Did you ever meet Ovidius Naso, Corvinus?' Vitellius asked. The guy had all the presence his wife lacked. You felt that if they ever caught you these jaws would crunch you up.

'No. My uncle knew him well, though.'

'Ah, the present consul. How is that gentleman?'

Ouch. I could recognise sarcasm when I heard it. I was beginning to wonder if Cotta had any friends at all. 'He was fine when I left,' I said.

'I understand he had…well, certain circumstances to thank for his elevation. Not unconnected with yourself.'

'Yeah? Is that so?' I was surprised, and cautious: it wasn't often I met anyone who knew about the Ovid business. But then Vitellius had been pretty close to Germanicus and the guy had other high-powered connections. 'You know more than I do, then. Cotta deserved his consul's chair. As much as anyone usually does.'

Vitellius pulled at his earlobe — I noticed the tip of his right index finger was missing — and frowned: on that face it was like a crease in a lump of dough. 'Perhaps you're right,' he said. 'Certainly Cotta Maximus is in good company. If that word isn't inappropriate where favouritism is concerned.'

Bastard! Even Acutia had caught that one. She tugged gently at the hem of his mantle. 'Now, now, dear,’ she said. ‘No politics.'

'Vitellius is the governor's assistant, Marcus,' Perilla said quickly. 'On the finance side.'

'Really?' I tried my best for a polite smile. 'I wondered why you weren't in uniform, sir. You were a legate on the Rhine, weren't you?'

I caught a look in his eye I couldn't quite place, but maybe I was imagining things: the eyes were so sunk into the podge that you hardly noticed them. 'That's right. I was,’ he said. ‘But I've found my talents lie more in administration.'

'And in forensics.'

He frowned again. 'No, Corvinus. Not at all. Certainly my last venture into that field was…unsuccessful.'

'You mean nailing Piso and Plancina on a poisoning rap?'

'Indeed.' I'd gone too far, even with that innocent little probe. The guy had stiffened up like he'd been cemented from the inside. 'So how are you finding our city? A change from Rome, no doubt?'

Hell. We were back to temples and statues. Acutia blossomed, and talked column proportions with Perilla. Then Lamia drifted over with a horse-faced female on his arm.

'You're enjoying yourself, Corvinus?' he said.

'Uh, yeah. Yes, very much, sir.' I avoided Perilla's eye.

'That's good. My wife Caecilia Gemella.' The horse face nodded benignly at me. I remembered Giton's stable and wondered if maybe I should scratch her nose, or even blow up her nostrils. 'And so this is the lovely Rufia Perilla. We haven't had a chance to talk, my dear. I hear you don't need my services after all over accommodation.'

'No, governor.' Perilla smiled at him. 'But thank you in any case.'

I'd been watching the interplay between Lamia and Vitellius. It was interesting: the two were friendly enough — they'd nodded to each other when the governor had come over — but there was a wariness I couldn't account for. And the wives, as Perilla had said earlier, obviously didn't get on at all: Acutia was stuck to her husband's arm like a limpet, and her eyes never left his face. Caecilia had ignored her completely.

'Apropos,' Lamia was saying to Perilla. 'Domitius Celer was telling me you were enquiring about possible picnic sites.'

Perilla gave me a sharp glance. 'Well, yes,' she said. 'Marcus did mention picnics the other day. He's quite a fresh-air fiend.'

The governor laughed. 'A more common trait of character here than in Rome, although even so as a good Roman not one I'd endorse.' He turned to me. 'Celer said someone recommended the Beroea direction to you, Corvinus. Personally I would've thought the other way would be better, south towards Daphne. You'd agree, Vitellius?'

The pudgy eyes were fixed on me. 'Oh. yes,' Vitellius said. 'Most definitely. Certainly from the health aspect.'

Uh-huh. 'Yeah, thanks, gentlemen,' I said. 'Thanks a lot. Nice to know you're all together in this. I'll bear it in mind.'

'You do that,' Lamia said blandly. 'Daphne's perfect for fresh-air fiends like you. Stick to that side of the city and you won't go far wrong.' He turned back to Perilla. 'And now, my dear, you must tell me where you found that beautiful Egyptian perfume jar.'

So. Lamia, Celer and Vitellius. Whatever the exact relationship was between these guys — and it wasn't a straightforward one, I could see that — they were all on the same side. That didn't augur well, not well at all. Like Celer had said, I was in a minority of one. Whatever was being covered up it was major, and the cover-up was official; at least official as far as the local authorities were concerned. The thing was, with beef like that on the opposition benches would we get anywhere at all?

The party was still in full swing when we said our thank-you's and went home. Sure, I was glad at least to have run across Celer and Vitellius, but the whole affair had basically been a downer. I'd expected someone, somewhere to be on my side, or at least neutral. What I'd got was a general conspiracy of silence; and I was beginning to feel like a sprat in a pond of hungry lampreys.

Still, I had to talk to Taurus yet.